Subject: GhostsFromThePast.7

From: "Colin J. Wynne" <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 12 Jan 1993 16:53:50 +0500 (EST)

This story is property of:
				Colin J. Wynne
				P.O. Box 4661
				Lexington, VA 24450
				(703) 464-4030
				[email-masked]

Permission is given to distribute this story freely as long as this header
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ghosts from the Past," Ch. 18 through Ch.19, and Epilogue:
-----------------------------------------------------------

                          CHAPTER XVIII

     "Captain Picard?"
     "Admiral, they still refuse to answer any communications.  
They are being irrationally stubborn, and they are suffering 
terribly for it."
     "You and I both know that, Jean-Luc, but neither of us has 
been able to convince them of that.  I'm still trying."
     "As am I, sir."
     "Flag out."  Wesley took the liberty of burying his face in 
his hands for a few moments.  With a heavy sigh, he faced reality 
once more.  DiSanto stood nearby, glancing over a report that he 
didn't want to have to look at.
     "Admiral?"
     "Yes, yes."  Wesley looked at the display screen.  From the 
original one-hundred and eighteen ships, he had left at his 
command all three space control ships, three carriers (with the 
loss of Peregrine), four battleships, eighteen battlecruisers, 
fourteen heavy cruisers, and eight destroyers and frigates.  He 
had made a decision to leave behind all those ships which were 
only crippled: Carnisaur, five battlecruisers, ten heavy cruisers, 
and twelve smaller ships.  All in all, forty ships completely 
destroyed.  And they had given themselves to neutralise almost ten 
time that number of Jhonkai.
     Even Ingram was damaged.  A fiercely concentrated volley had 
overloaded shields and hulled the secondary landing bay.  
Fortunately, no shuttles were being refueled or armed at the 
time.
     The mission needed to be accomplished, and quickly.  What to 
do?  "Flag to all ships, standby for new orders."
     "Captain DiSanto, we know the location of the Jhonkai home-
planet, do we not?"
     "Yes, sir.  Information from Enterprise's logs, along with 
our own sensor scans, indicate which system with an accuracy of 
about eighty-five percent."
     "How far is it?"
     "Just over a parsec, sir.  Under seven hours at maximum 
effective speed."
     Ingram's communications officer announced, "Fleet standing 
by, Admiral."
     "Thank you.
     "Ladies and gentlemen, we need to take decisive action 
immediately.  What I propose is this.  The main body of the fleet 
is going to the Jhonkai homeworld to increase the pressure.  The 
secondary Task Force"--he referred to the crippled ships--"will 
remain behind to mop up logistics and shipyards in this system.
     "Comments?"
     It was Captain Fanek who spoke up first.  "Sir, won't that be 
an open invitation for them to attack the damaged ships?  They 
won't be able to defend themselves."
     "A possibility.  But we've destroyed almost eighty percent of 
what they threw at us, and the rest turned tail and ran.  Now, 
we're going after their home planet.  I think that their 
priorities will not include TF 2.  We've got to be hurting them at 
least that much."
     Fanek admitted grudging agreement.  Their were a few more 
specific questions, but that was about it.
     "Fine.  We'll warp into the target system, and move toward 
the planet at one-half impulse to give them time to respond.  
Again, we need to let them mass, so we only have to fight one 
battle, instead of several dozen.
     "All units of TF 1, prepare for warpspeed in ten minutes.  
Flag out."

     TF Odysseus, at least what was left of it, had dropped out of 
warp near the edge of the Jhonkai home star system.  At one-half 
impulse, they would be within bombardment range in about thirty 
minutes. A planetary bombardment order would probably result in 
the quick and quiet retirement of Admiral Garrett Wesley, thrice 
awarded the Federation Superior Service Medal, and recipient of 
the Starfleet Citation for Bravery.  If he attacked the Jhonkai 
homeworld, he would be casting aside everything that represented 
the high moral pedestal on which the Federation liked to pride 
itself.
     And if he, Admiral Wesley, decided that that was the only way 
to prevent the Jhonkai from overrunning the Federation, he would 
do it.  And, technically, he would be within his orders, assuming 
of course, that he didn't get court-martialled outright for 
ignoring the recall order.
     Starfleet had been in a state of high anxiety when they 
drafted the orders for Odysseus, and so had allowed Wesley more 
options than would normally be expected, even for a commander 
under wartime engagement rules.  His two mission goals were to 
protect the Federation, and secondly to protect the Task Force, 
and towards those ends, he had allowed given 'broad discretionary 
measures'. That very technical term meant that Wesley could 
legally order anything which was not expressly prohibited 
elsewhere in the orders.  And planetary bombardments were not 
expressly prohibited.
     That didn't mean that he would give such an order lightly, by 
any means.
     "Admiral, Jhonkai forces are moving to intercept us."
     "Source, numbers?"
     "Looks like about eighty ships, half of them are 
dreadnaughts. And they're coming from all around us, sir."
     "Eighty, that's it?"  Wesley was frankly shocked.
     "Aye, sir."
     "If that's the best they can mount, why in hell are they 
still fighting at all, much less taking an offensive posture?
     "Comm, get me the other admirals immediately."
     In moments, the main screen split to reveal the Klingon, 
Kzinti and Gorn commanders.  Wesley filled them in, and posed the 
same question he had just asked himself out loud.
     Krond had an answer at once.  "Is it unclear to you, Wesley?  
They know they are doomed.  They wish to die gloriously in 
battle!"
     "Are you saying that our counter-invasion has done too well, 
and that they're just folding up?"
     S'Tyrrg snorted.  "I find that hard to believe."
     "I agree."  Wesley nodded emphatically.  "Captain Picard has 
been broadcasting our terms to them almost constantly.  They know 
we only want them to cease their invasion."
     Silence dominated for several long seconds.  Suddenly, 
k'Rzaal hissed angrily.  "They have a trick!  This pitiful attack 
is only to delay us.  What else makes sense?"
     The Klingon gestured his dismissal of k'Rzaal's thought.  
S'Tyrrg said, "Possible, but what-"
     Wesley cut the Gorn off abruptly, as he yelled a single word.  
"Reinforcements!"
     "What?" demanded Krond.
     "They must be recalling the invasion force--to deal with us."
     S'Tyrrg's hide turned slightly ashen.  "That was over one 
thousand of their heavy ships."
     Wesley agreed, looking pale himself.  "We'll be slaughtered.
     "Flag to all units.  Urgent!  Go to full impulse.  Task Force 
Mateo is to orbit the planet, and prepare for planetary assault.  
All other units must screen the battlecruisers.  All units 
acknowledge."
     They did so.

     The allied fleet hastily changed formation.  The four 
battlecruisers Enterprise, Groombridge, Caesar Augustus, and Lugal 
Zaggisi pulled out in front, escorted by Excelsior, Reaver, 
Commodore Mateo's Deneva, and the dreadnaught Ascension.  The 
remainder of the fleet formed into a hemisphere behind, the 
smaller ships surrounding the remaining carriers, SCS's and 
battleships; the whole formation looked like a solid parabolic 
dish, with the smaller group pointing forward like an antenna.
     Accelerating towards the Jhonkai homeworld, Riker felt a bead 
of sweat trickling across his brow.  There was a significant 
possibility that he and his four ship contingent would attack the 
planet directly.  It had, of course, been hoped that that 
particular end could be avoided, but circumstances were working 
against all of the Federation's hopes.
     "Captain," announced Data.  "Massive energy reading, zero 
zero zero mark four five, range approximately ninety million 
kilometres."
     "What's the pattern, Data?"
     "Rip zone, sir."
     "Damn.  Inform the Admiral."
     Even as the message was being sent, space split in twain, 
disgorging tremendous quantities of energy.  Gravitational waves 
rippled out from it, shaking the Federation ships like toy boats 
in a child's bath.  Through the storm of gravity and radiation, 
the battlecruiser's sensors picked out a few shapes appearing.  
Then more; dozens; scores; and still more.
     Riker's jaw gaped.  "Data, how..."
     "Six hundred forty-five Jhonkai dreadnaughts, sir."
     Suddenly Admiral Wesley's voice burst over the fleet channel.  
"TF Mateo, remain on course.  All other units, close and engage 
the new hostiles.  Repeat, close and engage.  Flag out."
     "Damn!  They're going to buy time for us, with the rest of the 
fleet!"  Riker was taken aback.
     Worf's bass rumble brought Riker back to the immediate.  
"Deneva advises a new enemy force approaching from behind the 
planet.  Battleships are moving to engage."
     "Worf, keep an eye on that new force.  Wes, stay tight with 
the squadron.

     Deborah Mateo swore inwardly at the tactical display facing 
her.  The original eighty ships were moving to support the 
reinforcements from Federation space, which was good for her, but 
there were those fifteen other ships...
     The Jhonkai obviously still underestimated Federation 
abilities. They hadn't expected Mateo to see the small squadron 
coming around the planet with all of the subspace clutter caused 
by the huge rip.  But her crew had seen them, seen the three 
battleships with their dozen escorts.  But these particular three 
battleships didn't match the rest of the Jhonkai heavy units, and 
she didn't know why.  All she did know was that they had obscenely 
large power curves.
     And that small group was heading directly to intercept her.
     "Computer, prioritise targets in Threat Group One.  Select 
all scout size targets."  A second later, threat numbers appeared 
on the tactical display.  "This is Mateo to task force.  Begin 
long-range fire on selected targets.  Be prepared for warp speed."
     Photon torpedoes and disruptors lashed out, all eight ships 
against one of the scouts.  Moments later, it veered off and fell 
out of position.  Mateo's ships shifted fire to the next target.
     The Jhonkai were getting closer and closer.  High-mag visual 
showed each of the heavy ships to have a huge open section at 
their bow.  Maybe they were special rip-generators, and now they 
were being forced into battle.
     That impression died almost as quickly as the Deneva.  
Mateo's force had just disabled a fourth scoutship when the 
heavens lit like a star gone nova.  The afterimage in Deborah's 
eyes recorded a beam of energy the size of a house bursting from 
the bow opening on the lead battleship.
     Commodore Mateo's eyes widened in horror.  The Romulans had 
once experimented with a weapon called a mauler.  Basically, they 
built a ship around a huge energy weapon which could draw directly 
on all ship's power.  It was a crude weapon, to be sure, and not 
accurate at long ranges, but it was powerful.
     "All ships!  Scatter and take evasive, now!"
     The second bolt hit Deneva, barely.  After blowing through 
three layers of shields as though they weren't there, it 
vapourised the hangar bay along with the aft third of the ship, 
and one end of the closed anti-matter intermix feed.
     As most of her bridge crew picked themselves up off of the 
floor, Deborah noticed that her ship was drifting, and in 
freefall.
     The Engineer's voice, as he spoke, was filled with fear.  
"Commodore, containment field integrity failing.  We have about 
two minutes."  Mateo added the conclusion:  until the ship 
explodes.
     "Not enough time for lifeboats."  An icy calm pervaded her 
system as Commodore Deborah Mateo issued her last order.
     "Weapons, lock on the lead mauler."
     "Aye, sir.  Locked."
     "Helm, slave the computer pilot to weapons lock."  About 
seventy seconds.  Would it be enough?
     The helmsman was puzzled.  "Sir?"
     "Do it, please."
     "Yes, sir."
     Mateo floated forward to the helm station.  The helmsman 
stepped aside, so didn't notice her set speed for maximum warp.
     "I've enjoyed serving with all of you," she said simply, and 
engaged the warp drive.

     Torrents of energy washed across the Enterprise's viewscreen.  
Riker thought that the ship was being fired upon, and that he was 
going to die.  He thought himself remarkably detached from that 
thought, sort of like the feeling one has on the verge of 
fainting.
     Then the light faded, and half of the enemy formation was 
simply gone.  He blinked and looked again.  Two maulers and two 
scout ships were all that he saw.
     "Data, what happened?  Did the middle ship self-destruct?"
     "Scanning," replied the android.  "Sensors show strong warp 
ionisation trail, originating at the Deneva's last position.  
Explosion too large for anti-matter explosion.  I conclude a high 
warp-velocity collision."
     Will knew that the Deneva had been badly damaged, but...   
Not knowing that their artificial gravity had failed, he assumed 
that all hands had been lost in the collision.  He was wrong.
     Without acceleration dampeners, they had all died the moment 
the engines had engaged with acceleration stronger than one 
hundred earth gravities.
     "Captain."  Data was still monitoring the sensors.  "The 
remaining maulers are entering optimal range."
     Riker nodded.  The squadron commanders, having just figured 
out the commodore's fate, were radioing back to the Admiral for 
instructions.  Somebody needed to take charge, and quickly, before 
the other two maulers ripped them to shreds.  As if to accentuate 
the point, the two ships fired on Reaver.  One shot landed, 
hulling her neatly amidships.
     Will glanced at the target designations on the tactical 
screens.  "Data, get me a channel to the squadron."
     "Open, sir."
     "TF Mateo, all units engage Target Delta-One.  Enterprise 
will engage other.  Acknowledge to Enterprise."
     Within moments, Data reported that they had.  He also said, 
"Sir, we're being targeted."
     "Mr. Crusher, tactical warp to within fifty kilometres of 
target, now!"
     "Fif-"
     "Now!  Worf, prepare to fire."
     In Starfleet Tactics classes, it was taught that when closing 
with an enemy at warp speeds, a ship would arrive before the light 
image from its previous position.  Thus, what the target's sensors 
saw was that a ship at point A would instantaneously appear at 
point B, very nearby, whose light track would then trace back to 
the original position.  And a battle computer would take precious 
seconds deciphering the strange data.  One Starfleet captain had 
made very good use of this tactic, and it had since been named 
after him.
     It was called the Picard manoeuvre.
     From forty kilometres away, four phaser cannon destroyed the 
maulers shields.  Individual phasers from the battlecruiser's 
saucer raked back and forth across the Jhonkai vessel.  A mere 
instant later, a narrow spread of half a dozen photon torpedoes 
tracked down the bore of the mauler weapon itself, even as the 
ship was firing at the Enterprise's previous position.
     Not oblivious to the likely results of his tactic, Riker 
already had his ship warping away as the Jhonkai mauler converted 
itself into hundreds of gigatons of energy.
     Enterprise dropped out of warp several thousand kilometres 
away, in time to see Excelsior and Lugal deliver the coup de grace 
to the remaining mauler.
     They now had a clear channel to the planet.  "Lugal, Caesar, 
Groombridge, form up on Enterprise.  Excelsior and Ascension 
return to main fleet.  Reaver, clear the area."  Riker waited to 
make sure his orders were carried out, then turned to Wes at the 
helm.
     "Good piloting, Mr. Crusher.  Now, get us around that planet.
     "Data, how's the Admiral doing?"
     Data reviewed the battle data he had been receiving on the 
rest of the fleet.  "Admiral Wesley's initial close destroyed or 
crippled twenty-nine Jhonkai units before they recovered from the 
rip transition, without any significant damage to his own ships.  
Since then, he has kept the engagement range open.  The smaller 
units have flanked the Jhonkai and are darting in and out at low 
warp speeds.  Fighters have entered the Jhonkai formation, and are 
attacking from within to maintain confusion, but have taken almost 
thirty percent casualties.  Also, warp capable shuttles have been 
laying mines through the Jhonkai ranks."
     "Data, how much longer can they keep it up?"
     "Sir, I estimate that they will be completely destroyed in 
under thirty minutes.  All ships have taken some damage, and after 
several of the space control ships and battleships are destroyed, 
the situation will quickly become untenable."
     Riker mused.  "Get me the Admiral."
     After almost forty seconds, Riker heard a curt, "Flag here."
     "Admiral, this is Riker on Enterprise."
     There was the sound of an explosion, a pause, and then, "Go 
ahead."
     "Sir, we'll be in planetary range in under five minutes.  
Withdraw your forces, and fight a retrograde action.  You got us 
the time we needed, now protect yourselves."
     The answer came immediately; the relief in the Admiral's 
voice was tangible.  "About time, Will.  We thought you had 
forgotten all about us.  Flag out."
     Suddenly, a thought occurred to Will.  "Data, the Saipan?"
     "Lightly damaged, sir.  No other reports."
     "Flag to all units.  Commence a fighting retrograde 
withdrawal away from the planet, repeat away from the planet.  
Maintain best formation possible."
     Riker looked at his screens.  "Data, scan the planet.  Target 
industrial centers and population centers.  Also, orbital and 
satellite industry and defenses."
     The seconds passed slowly.  Riker's squadron removed all 
orbital defenses with long range photon torpedoes before they ever 
had a chance to open fire.  Also, each ship, now stretched out in 
line abreast, launched an ESS, an electronic ship simulator, 
moving only marginally faster than the speed of light, to detonate 
mines in front of them.  This was good, because almost one hundred 
mines were set off that way.
     Several orbitting factories were destroyed out of hand, as 
they were uninhabited.  All the while, Enterprise beamed a demand 
for surrender.
     As soon as the main fleet started to retreat, the Jhonkai 
warships tried to return to the planet.  But the Admiral was still 
doing an excellent job, and he made it abundantly clear to them 
that he would reduce the Jhonkai to scrap metal if they turned 
their backs on him.  They didn't appear to be able to retrograde.
Garrett danced a fine line between allowing the Jhonkai a chance 
to return to their homeworld and scatter Riker's atoms to space, 
and getting his own ships butchered in a close combat.
     "Ground based missiles and lasers firing, sir," reported 
Worf.
     "Take them out, Lieutenant."
     At that moment, Riker noticed Geordi standing over him.
     "Yes?" prompted Will.
     "Damage report, Captain.  We're doing pretty well.  A couple 
of burn throughs in the lower decks.  Mostly cargo and crew 
quarters.  Caesar took a glancing blow from one of the maulers.  
The port side of her saucer is pretty mangled, but she can still 
fight. The other two are a little worse off than us, but not 
much."
     "Good.  We're better off than I thought possible.  Any 
response from the planet?" 
     Geordi frowned.  "Just the missiles, sir."
     "Alright, damnit.  I'm getting tired of this.  Have all four 
ships deploy shuttles.  I want low passes over their major 
population centres, five hundred metres or less.  I want those 
people to read the Fed logo on the wings.  Have the four 
battlecruisers spaced out, one polar orbit, one equatorial, two in 
between.  Any defense installations are to be destroyed, as 
precisely as possible.  Empty industrial locations likewise.  If 
they have people in them, then phasers on heavy stun, wide 
dispersion."
     Geordi moved to a console and started issuing orders.  He 
turned around and asked, "Shuttles to be armed, Captain Riker?"
     "Hmmm.  Air-to-air missile load.  How soon can they 
launch?"
     "Less than five minutes, sir."

     Coxswain Lieutenant (JG) Adalbert Schneider piloted his 
shuttle at mach four over the scurrying civilians below.  Intel 
from First Officer LaForge, up on the bridge, said he was over the 
biggest population center on the planet.  He smiled and watched 
the weird triply symmetric aliens hurry off the streets.
     Ensign Jones, in the second seat, heard the warning beeper, 
and stared at his screens.
     "Bert, atmospheric fighter closing from, uh, one four four."
     "I got him."  The sleek black shape locked onto the shuttle 
and fired three missiles from an internal weapons bay.
     "Hang on!"  Schneider popped three chaff charges while Jones 
cranked the jammer to max.  The throttle was cracked wide open, 
and as the pilot pulled back the stick the shuttle accelerated 
into a steep climb.
     The three missiles exploded into the chaff, but the Jhonkai 
pilot matched the climb.  Schneider figured he had some kind of 
cannon on that craft, and he didn't want to find out anymore about 
it.
     The two craft jinked back and forth in a twisting scissors 
pattern, and the civvies came back into the street.  After all, 
when was the last time they saw a high-speed dogfight over their 
fair city?
     "Jonesie, how's his infrared?"
     "Pretty cool, Bert.  Ain't gonna get a target out of him that 
way."
     "Alright."  He jammed the stick to port and reversed the 
pursuit again.  At this rate, they'd run out of fuel before either 
got a decent shot.  "Can you get me a passive lock-on with the aft 
missiles?  I don't want to go active and spook him."
     "Yeah.  Can you get a good shot?"
     Schneider laughed.  "You just leave that to me."
     Schneider throttled forward slightly and turned starboard 
again.  The bandit was on his high six, just about to get a really 
juicy shot, when the lieutenant rolled skyward into a barrel 
roll.  Schneider deliberately overthrottled coming out of the 
turn.  The Jhonkai, who had braked on vertical thrust, cruised 
around to the shuttle's level six.  Schneider grinned wide.
     The launch toggle on his stick was pulled once, twice.
     From racks in the belly of the shuttle two missiles launched 
straight back, fireballing its pursuer.  Burning wreckage crashed 
about the city.
     "You know," said Schneider, "that was too ea-"
     "Jesus Christ!  Air defense stuff, everywhere!"
     Warning receivers blared around the cockpit.  One smoke trail 
appeared right in front of them.  Schneider instinctively pulled 
high right.  As he crested the turn into an inverted dive, he 
caught puffs of several more missile launches.  He hadn't needed 
to tell Jones to jam anything and everything.
     On the ground, there was a large, impressive looking 
building, surrounded by defensive positions.  The layout of the 
roads and buildings around it told Schneider that that structure 
was one of two things:  the Jhonkai capital or their military 
headquarters.  Either way, that had to get back to Captain Riker.  
He noticed all that in the three seconds before his shuttle 
rolled level and went supersonic down a cavernous urban valley.  
The last pursuing missiles detonated into nearby buildings, and he 
went ballistic to get back to the Enterprise.

     LaForge felt frustrated, and rightly so.  "They haven't done 
anything yet, Captain.  The main fleet is still engaging, and they 
still aren't responding to us."
     Riker stalked back to the command chair, and contacted the 
squadron.  "Prepare for full-scale bombardment in ten minutes."  
He clicked off the channel and sat down heavily.
     "Hangar bay to Bridge."
     Geordi activated an intercom.  "Bridge, LaForge here."
     "Sir, this is Bosun Grel," announced a brusque Tellarite 
voice.  "I've got some good intelligence from Shuttle Four."
     Minutes later, Data narrowed the ships scanning radius and 
concluded that message traffic in and out of the building 
Schneider had found definitely indicated a planetary command 
centre.
     "Mr. Crusher," asked Riker, "how long until we orbit over 
that sight?"
     "Eight minutes, Captain."
     "Geordi, have the squadron standby on bombardment."
     "Aye, sir."
     "Wes, you and Mr. Data have exactly four and a half minutes 
to come up with the profile for an atmospheric dive to take us one 
kilometre over that city.  We will hold position there for as long 
as possible.  Worf, I want blanketing phaser fire on heavy stun 
all around, but not on, that building."  Riker paused to let all 
of that sink in.  "Clear?"

     The Strategic Command Bunker for the Jhonkai Concordium was 
quiet for the moment.  Since that one enemy shuttle had escaped, 
no further harassments had been made.  But electronic sensors 
still eagerly watched the sky.
     They found something.  There was a bright infrared source 
high over the horizon.  Tracking computers computed that it would 
pass over the city, but trained weapons anyway.
     Deeper in the atmosphere now, the object slowed and ceased 
burning.  It took on a trajectory indicating a powered vehicle, 
and more weapons were brought to bear.  They began to fire.
     Missiles were barely out of their launch racks when they, and 
the racks, were melted by spears of lightning from the intruder.  
Ground based lasers got off one shot, and no more before being 
likewise destroyed.
     Smaller vehicles emerged, diving straight for the city.  The 
larger object resolved itself into a wide flat body with a disc 
shaped projection forward, and twin nacelles astride its aft end.
     The shuttles crisscrossed the Bunker, destroying radars and 
missile launchers.  Within three minutes, dozens of fires raged 
around the Bunker, and now the large object was clearly visible, 
directly over the city.  It was big, bigger than a fleet scout, 
and almost as big as a battleship.
     The small boats, their destruction wrought, cleared the area, 
and beams of energy began to connect the big ship with parts of 
the city.
     The command personnel in the Bunker tried to contact those 
sections of the city, to receive no answer whatsoever.  The attack 
went on and on.  Every remaining camera was trained on the 
attacker, and its huge, menacing shape filled every eye that was 
left to watch.
     "We demand your surrender and the cessation of all 
hostilities in and against the United Federation of Planets..."

     Admiral Wesley had fewer than thirty ships left against the 
four hundred remaining Jhonkai.  All the space junk was scattering 
emanations from the planet, and he hadn't heard from Riker.  He 
feared the worst.  With all of his remaining ships damaged, many 
of them badly, he had few if any options remaining.
     Ingram was going to have to warp to the planet and bombard it 
with anti-matter.  How much longer could he wait?
     Just then, the ship's science officer said in a slightly 
puzzled tone, "Admiral, the enemy is slowing."
     "Damn.  Are they making for the planet again?"
     "No, sir.  They appear to be stopping.  Wait!  They're 
ceasing fire!"
     "What?"
     "That's right, sir," noted DiSanto, watching her own screens.
     Garrett mashed a finger and opened the fleet channel.  "Flag 
to all units, cease fire and hold position!"
     "Signal from the planet, Admiral."

     The bridge of the Saipan looked empty.  With half of her 
normal bridge crew dead or wounded from the hit that had melted 
the starboard bulkhead, it was amazing that it still functioned as 
a command center.
     Picard stood in the middle of the bridge, with the big ship's 
captain standing slightly behind and beside him.
     "On screen."
     An ugly tripartite alien appeared on the viewer.  "This is 
Second Marshall Jekhal of the Jhonkai Concordium.  I am prepared 
to offer the surrender of my people to a diplomatic detachment of 
the United Federation of Planets."
     "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starfleet.  I 
have authority to negotiate that surrender.  Do you understand 
that?"
     "Yes, Picard, I do, and I have since you destroyed our first 
fleet around J'chut.  Our former leaders were more stubborn, 
however. Understand that there has been a...very recent change of 
power here which has left me in charge."
     "Marshall, I am deeply sorry for the extent of force which 
had to be used to bring about this conversation."
     "Picard is not to be blamed, rather my predecessors who 
insisted on fighting against your superior strength.
     "But let us meet and discuss our situation more 
thoroughly..."

                           CHAPTER XIX

     Will Riker watched the slowly moving starscape through the 
viewing ports of the Galaxy class ship's main conference room, 
just off of the bridge.  He gave a long sigh.
     Presently, the door sighed open and shut again behind him, 
and, without turning to look, he took note of quiet footfalls 
approaching him.  "How's my ship, Will?"
     Riker half turned to note the shorter, balding form of 
Captain Picard beside him.  "Just fine, sir.  Not much can go 
wrong orbitting a starbase.  I'd say it's been a fairly boring two 
weeks."
     Picard, himself, had been in Jhonkai space with the 
negotiators, disarmament supervisors, logistics personnel, and 
numerous others, since the cease fire.  He was back at Starbase 93 
to resume his normal duties, his major work with the Jhonkai 
having been completed, and the follow-up passed on to others.
     Jean-Luc joined his First Officer, once again wearing the 
three collar pips of a Commander, in staring at space.
     "It was worse than I first thought, Number One.  Their whole 
economy had been tied up in three things:  invasion, transports, 
and defense.  To think, and to have seen, the amount of damage we 
did to those people..."
     Silence filled the air for several seconds.  Riker broke it.  
"What about Jhonkai civilian casualties?"  Will was afraid he 
didn't want to hear the answer.
     "Actually, they were quite minimal.  And I am very glad for 
that."
     Will breathed relief.  "So am I."
     "That's not all.  Those ships of theirs were highly 
automated.  The scouts had under a hundred crew, and the big ships 
scarcely twice that."
     Riker's voice turned bitter.  "And Starfleet?"
     Picard sighed heavily.  "Odysseus lost eighteen thousand 
people.  Logistics is still trying to figure out casualties from 
before that.  With all the civilians too..."  Picard's voice caught 
on the words.  "The preliminary estimates are a million and a half 
dead, half that many injured."
     Riker's face was stone, his eyes focused unblinkingly on some 
distant star.  A remote part of his brain latched onto an 
optimistic thought, or, at the very least, an outcome that might 
have been worse.  "And if the Admiral had acknowledged the recall?  
There are several trillion beings in the Federation."
     Silence filled the room for several minutes, the two men lost 
in their respective reveries.  Riker had watched ship after ship 
of fellow officers die.  Picard had wallowed in the devastation of 
the Jhonkai people for two weeks.
     Finally, Jean-Luc spoke.  "Three votes, number one."
     "Sir?"
     "Odysseus was approved in the Council by three votes."
     Riker turned away from the viewport, anger on his face.  
"That's ridiculous!  Those bastards let the Federation come within 
three votes of annihilation?"
     Picard was caught unawares by his exec's sudden vehemence.  
"Will, calm down.  They were only doing their job.  Their job-- 
ours too--is to keep peace."
     "Sir, with all due respect, there wasn't a whole bunch of 
peace to be kept three weeks ago.  I watched several of my friends 
die in that battle, people I knew serving on those ships.  I can't 
say they should have died, but at least they died serving the 
Federation, fulfilling their oaths.  Damnit, I don't believe all 
of Worf's talk about dying gloriously in battle, but at least they 
didn't just get wiped out because some politician decided that it 
was against some ethical principal to move their ships out of 
dock.
     "I'm not happy about what we did to the Jhonkai, but as sure 
as I am standing here, I don't regret it."
     Picard moved toward the table.  "Sit down, Will."  Picard's 
tone was not entirely an order.  Riker took a seat.
     Will Riker's face was still red, and tension gestated in the 
air for several long moments as the Captain thought about his 
words.
     "That was quite a bit of baggage you just let off there, 
wasn't it?"
     Will's mouth opened, but before he could speak, Picard 
continued.  "Will, would you give your life to save mine?  Or any 
other person on this ship?  Or maybe even somebody you had never 
met?"
     Riker was caught off guard.  Switching mental gears, but 
making sure to hold onto the core of the discussion, he said, 
"Yes, I would.  You know that."
     Picard leaned forward.  "Would you allow the entire crew to 
die if it would save a whole planet?"
     Riker concentrated harder, trying to grasp what his captain 
was getting at.  "Yes."
     "Would you allow one race of people to die to save another?"
     Riker didn't answer.
     Picard prompted, "Where do you draw the line, Commander?  
When does sacrifice, self-sacrifice, end?  And why?"
     Riker answered in a flat, emotionless voice.  "I don't know.  
I don't have all the answers, but I know there comes a point where 
my choice is us over them.  And this was definitely past that 
point."
     "Do you honestly think that the Council members who voted 
against it didn't consider that vote very seriously?" asked the 
Captain rhetorically.
     Picard stood and walked over to Riker's side.  "Will, I know 
how you feel.  Frankly, I was disappointed about that piece of 
news myself.
     "But I spent more time these past two weeks trying to curb 
bloodthirsty Federation personnel than trying to control the 
Jhonkai.  After Jekhal took over, they were very cooperative.
     "Obviously things could have turned out much worse, but they 
could have been better as well.  And there's plenty of blame to be 
spread around if that is what you really want to do."
     Riker shook his head.  "Of course not."
     "Will, you've done your part, and I've done mine.  What the 
Federation needs now is to start getting back to normal."
     Will leaned back in the chair and turned once again toward 
the viewport.  After a short while, he asked, "So how did the 
negotiations go?"
     "Not as badly as I feared," answered Picard, "but not as well 
as I had hoped."
     Riker allowed himself a wan smile.  "I believe I know the 
feeling."
     "Every ship that could still generate rips has already 
withdrawn.  The ones that couldn't surrendered.  We'll oversee 
their disarmament, of course.  The Federation is allowing them to 
settle coreward systems that we've never had time to develop, and 
after they get set up there they have to provide merchant ships to 
the Federation and give us an assured trade status."
     "That doesn't sound to bad," observed Riker.
     "Well, some pretty stiff reparations have been assigned to 
them, but they've also been offered Federation membership at some 
unspecified time in the future.  I am proud to say that the last 
was at my urging."
     Riker nodded.  "Good idea, sir."
     "So, Number One, are you getting used to being a Commander 
again?"
     Riker chuckled.  "I think so.  Just forgive me if I try to 
give you orders by accident, okay?"
     "I think I can manage that.  I am glad to have you back with 
me, Number One."

     "Mr. President, everything is going well."
     The President looked at Admiral Heirok, then looked around at 
the complete chaos which dominated Starfleet Command.  Here a 
group dealt with the surrendering Jhonkai, in that corner a team 
monitored rips, over there Logistics was trying to organise repair 
and refit for dozens of starships, Personnel was arranging for all 
of the reservists returning from duty, Planetary aid was in full 
swing...
     "Excellent Admiral.  And the stand-down?"
     Heirok nodded.  "All sector commands have acknowledged the 
stand-down order.  The United Federation of Planets is now 
officially off of Invasion Alert."
     The President knew how much work was left to accomplish, how 
much rebuilding would have to be done.  Nonetheless, he looked 
relieved, for perhaps the first time in over a month.
     "I am glad to hear that, Admiral.  What deployments are still 
in effect?"
     Turning towards a strategic display of Federation territory, 
the Chief of Starfleet said, "The local defense fleets have been 
put into service for relief efforts, and the PDF is overseeing 
Jhonkai transport and colonisation.  The remainder of Task Force 
Odysseus is in Jhonkai space, with some reinforcements, observing 
and aiding with disarmament."
     "Fine, fine.  Carry on Admiral, I have an appointment to 
attend to."
     "Yes, sir."

     "This Board of Inquiry is now in session.
     "Admiral Garrett Irving Wesley, you are accused of disobeying 
orders and mutiny.  How do you plead?"
     What an obnoxious formality, thought Wesley.  Garrett didn't 
exactly think himself a hero (although there were many who did), 
but he certainly didn't expect to get hanged for winning a war.  
Oh, there was no death penalty or anything, but the head of the 
board was an Academy classmate of Wesley's who had never really 
liked Wesley.  According to the strictest letter of Starfleet law, 
he would have every right to hand Wesley a dishonourable discharge 
and some time in a Starfleet prison.
     But he wouldn't.  Would he?
     Wesley's lips were forming around his answer when the door 
opened.
     The Chairman's face frowned.  "Damnit, this board is closed-"
     When he saw who had entered, the Chairman was too 
flabbergasted to speak, so one of the commodores announced, 
"Attention on Deck!"
     "At ease, gentlemen.  Mr. Chairman?"
     The presiding Admiral was at attention again.  "Yes, Mr. 
President?"
     "I am ordering you to drop all charges against Admiral 
Wesley. Do you understand?"
     "Yes, sir.  Perfectly."  His voice sounded disappointed.
     The President obviously did not appreciate that tone.  
"Admiral, no mutiny took place.  Admiral Wesley obeyed his orders 
perfectly."
     Everyone in the room, Wesley included blinked in surprise.  
"Mr. President?"  The Chairman lifted a transcript of the orders.  
"But Admiral Wesley's orders-"
     "-were to keep the main Jhonkai force from wreaking havoc in 
the Federation.  And he managed to force them all to withdraw.  
Every last ship.  That is all, Mr. Chairman.  The board is 
dismissed."
     The entire Board grabbed their papers and filed quickly out 
of the room.
     As the President watched them go, Wesley approached him.
     "Sir, thank you."
     The President turned to face him.  "Admiral, there is not a 
being in the entire universe who does not make mistakes.  My only 
wish is that they could all have someone as willing to recognise 
those mistakes as you.  You have done the Federation a great 
service."
     For the first time in his memory, Garrett Wesley blushed.

     As Picard strode onto the bridge, Executive Officer Riker 
turned and informed him, "All preparation have been made, Captain.  
We're ready to get underway."
     "Excellent."  Picard took his seat, surveying his bridge.  
"Make it so."
     Riker's large frame seemed to fill the centre of the bridge 
where he stood.  "Mr. Worf, open a channel to Starbase 
Operations."
     Worf was about to acknowledge when an indicator at his 
console activated.  "Sir, incoming transmission."
     Riker raised an eyebrow.  "What's the source?"
     "Starfleet Command, sir."
     "On screen."
     The viewscreen changed from anonymous stars to a UFP logo.  A 
voice announced, "Standby for the President of the United 
Federation of Planets."
     Picard and Riker exchanged glances, and Picard rose to stand 
beside his first officer.
     The President's features were suddenly looking down at them.
     "Greetings Captain Picard, Commander Riker."
     "Mr. President," they said together.
     "Gentlemen, you have both performed outstandingly in service 
of the Federation during the recent crisis.  I would like to 
extend to you both my personal thanks, as well as that of 
Starfleet Command and the Federation."
     Picard answered first.  "Thank you, Mr. President.  We are 
flattered."
     "Not at all.  Captain, I wish to congratulate you for the 
tremendous work you did with the diplomatic contingency.  I am 
sure that no one could have done a better job with the situation 
you faced.  In fact, let me know if you ever want a job with the 
Foreign Office."
     Picard laughed.  "Not for a while, yet, sir."
     "And Commander.  I am happy to be the first to inform you 
that you will receive both the Starfleet Citation for Gallantry 
and the Presidential Citation for Outstanding Service.  That's a 
very impressive combination, Commander Riker."
     Riker was well aware of that fact.  "Thank you, Mr. 
President."
     "And now, Captain, Commander, I have a special assignment 
that I think will please you both."

                             EPILOGUE

     Jean-Luc Picard stood in full dress uniform in the largest 
viewing lounge of an orbital museum which cruised slowly about the 
planet Mars.  Clustered near him, Beverly and Deanna showed smiles 
of happy expectation.
     The museum had been made out of the docking bay section of 
Starfleet's original Spacedock, salvaged when its replacement was 
built, and moved to its present location as a place to display 
with honour those ships whose names stood out most prominently in 
Starfleet history.
     And had survived...  The corridors were lined with memorial 
plaques to all the ships Starfleet had sent out never to return.  
Though all well kept, Picard couldn't help but notice the gleaming 
new sheen on the almost sixty recent additions.
     Picard looked around the tremendous enclosed space on the 
other side of the clearsteel windows.  Dozens of shuttles and 
fighters, small scout ships, several destroyers and even larger 
ships.
     Most conspicuous, by far, was the ship directly opposite the 
bay doors.  Shining bright white and blue under the powerful 
lights, her twin nacelles and fine lines designed to grab the 
admiration of all who saw her, the United Star Ship Enterprise, 
NCC 1701-A, sat majestically in the role of guardian angel of all 
about her.
     Several smaller ships had been moved from nearby, allowing 
technicians to construct a huge berth next to the angel.  The UFP 
anthem blared from hidden speakers suddenly.  Picard came to 
attention, as did all the other officers around him.  Civilians 
were in other lounges.
     The main monitor faded from the Federation flag to the 
Starfleet emblem--the curved arrowhead shape originally from the 
first starship Enterprise--to a view outside the museum.
     The Sol home fleet was in twin ranks, lining the approach 
trajectory to the museum bay.  They forced energy through their 
deflector screens, and the onlookers watched rainbows of colour 
ripple down the line.  Then, from the end of the line, two shapes 
began to move.
     Geordi commanded Picard's ship as she led the Alaska class 
battlecruiser Enterprise through the formation.  The two vessels 
crept down the line, their serene glide punctuated only by the 
bursts of the twenty-one gun salute:  a wash of bright phaser fire 
from Enterprise-D, followed scarcely seconds later from all the 
rest.
     Strobe lights pulsed red throughout the docking area.  The 
monstrous doors showed a sliver of dull red light reflected off of 
the planet's surface, which widened until most of the fleet was 
visible outside.
     Just before the doors, Geordi banked high, parking over the 
museum.

     "Wes, time to doors?" asked Riker.
     "Fourteen seconds, sir," came the answer from the helm.
     The glow of the last shot of the salute flashed from the 
museum's bright surface, and Geordi conned his ship into a climb 
and rotation.
     As the battlecruiser's bow light passed through the bay 
doors, the Galaxy class ship faced opposite, looking back down the 
assembled ranks of ships.
     Wes Crusher watched his controls intently, caressing the 
manoeuvring jets just so,making sure every move the ship made was 
perfect.
     A beep sounded from the comm panel.  Worf said, "Dock master 
is hailing, sir.  Tugs standing by for assistance."
     Riker considered that.  "Need the help, Mr. Crusher?"
     "No way, sir!"
     A playful smile crossed Will's lips.  "Mr. Worf, signal the 
dock master that, after we dock this battlecruiser, we'll be more 
than happy to assist his tugs."
     Worf let slip a soft bark that might have been a chuckle.  
"Aye, aye, sir."
     As the shadow of the bay fell across the ship's nacelles, 
Will called to an open hailing frequency, "Thanks for the escort, 
Geordi.  Good job."
     "No problem, Commander.  That's a fine looking ship you've 
got there.  Enterprise out."
     All too soon, scarcely minutes later, Riker felt the slight 
change in the humming which coursed through the deckplates that 
told him the thrusters had shut down.  The ship was motionless.
     Data confirmed this.  "Docking manoeuvres completed, 
Commander.  Dock workers are approaching with the gangway and 
permanent bracings.  Shall I begin powerdown sequence?"
     Riker sighed.  How many times had he thought he was about to 
give his last order aboard this ship?  But this was really it.
     Will was about to feel sad, but then he noticed the recently 
repaired battle damage.  He saw Deneva explode in his mind, and 
watched scenes from the whole final battle around the Jhonkai 
homeworld dance through his head.
     William Riker knew that he did what had been necessary, but 
now that was done, and he could get back to the Enterprise, the 
one that really mattered.  His home.
     "Power down all systems, Mr. Data."
     "Yes, sir.  Main engines are cold, impulse shutdown 
beginning, and storage routines are running."
     Riker nodded.  "That's everything, then?"
     Argyle spoke from his station.  "Everything for us, sir.  The 
museum will take care of the rest."
     "Let's go then."

     Riker watched the other four begin their way down the 
gangplank, then turned to close the airlock.  The computer 
confirmed that nobody was on board, and accepted the command.
     As he started to walk away, he pondered briefly whether this 
end of the passage was under low pressure, or if there were some 
other invisible force making it hard for him to go.
     He heard noise up ahead, some kind of commotion, and wondered 
what might be up.  Will brightened his pace.  He was deposited 
into the museum proper, and as he rounded a turn towards the main 
lounge, he ran straight into a wall of sound.
     Cheering, whistling, a torrent of noise, all directed at the 
officers of Enterprise-C, and, specifically, Will Riker.  As he 
threaded through the wall to wall uniforms, a melange of red, blue 
and gold, Will Riker's face was that of a little boy, jubilant at 
the praise he receives from those around him.  Hearty pats on the 
back thumped him continuously.  One short redhead in security gold 
planted a ferocious kiss on Riker's lips before retreating into 
the sea of uniforms.
     He was still pondering that when Picard and the others found 
him.  "Well, Number One," said the Captain, his voice swelling 
above the rest, "it seems your reputation precedes you."
     Riker threw his head back and let out a tremendous laugh.  
Every bit of tension that had collected in him since the whole 
Jhonkai crisis had begun abandoned him in one cathartic moment.  
His eyes on the verge of tears, Riker acknowledged, "It would seem 
so. I could use a good party."

     Riker walked onto the Galaxy class ship's bridge, at a 
moderate pace, and trying not to move his head very much.  He had 
a hangover.
     Kate Pulaski was also on the bridge.  "Will, are you alright?"
     Riker had deliberately forgone any hangover treatments, to 
remind himself not to do this again.  "I'm fine, Doctor."  His 
voice was just a little slower than usual.
     Deanna said, "Will-"
     He knew what she was going to say.  She was going to tell him 
he was not fine, and that he should let the doctor do something 
for him. She was absolutely correct.
     "I said I'm fine."  She took his word for it.
     The ready room door hissed, and Picard walked briskly to the 
centre chair.  He obviously noticed Will's slightly unnatural 
complexion, yet chose to ignore it.  Riker was glad.  If he had to 
tell one more person just how fine he was, he might very well keel 
over from the exertion.
     "We have our orders, Number One.  We're to finish the 
training games that were interrupted.  I'm rather looking forward 
to it."
     "Hmm."
     Even Picard couldn't resist after that pitiful response.  
"So, how did the party end last night, Will?"
     "I don't remember," he mumbled.
     Jean-Luc smiled--'Ah, youth', or some such sentiment--and let 
it be.  "Mr. Data, set a course for Starbase 42, warp four."
     "Aye, aye, sir.  Course laid in."
     "Number One?"
     Riker considered briefly, then answered.  "No, thank you, 
sir. Your ship, your prerogative."
     "Very well."  Picard's right index finger pointed forward.
     "Engage."